Ghoulish

by Kat Bellamy

  “Mhm.” She pursed her lips.

  “Anyway, I just came over to ask if you guys knew Andrew Wilbur was just appointed DA.”

  “He was?” Susan’s eyes widened. “Oh, dear.”

  “Why do I feel like you’re more well-acquainted with him than Stan lets on?”

  Susan worried at her bottom lip. “He came by Stan’s office once or twice with Carver. I guess the mother of one of the patients at the hospital thinks her son’s body was taken after the autopsy.”

  Colt blinked. “She thinks it was taken, or it was?”

  “Look, as far as anyone with clout in this city is concerned, she’s just a hysterical woman who can’t accept that her son is dead. His body was damaged badly enough that they couldn’t have an open-casket funeral. That does things to your head,” she said, showing the first sign of sympathy Colt had seen her demonstrate toward a human. “Carver said he was just investigating to calm her down, that nothing would come of it.”

  “But now he’s dead and Andrew Wilbur is on the case,” Colt muttered. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Stan barely even wants to talk to me about it. Besides, it’s obvious you’ve had other things on your mind and there’s nothing you can do.”

  “Jason is close to Wilbur,” Colt admitted grudgingly. “Maybe I can find out if he’s even still investigating the hospital. I’m sure Carver’s death will take precedence.”

  “I hope so,” Susan said, hugging herself. “It’s not supposed to be like this. We’re told that if we keep to ourselves and follow the rules, we’ll be protected, but there’s been a dark cloud over this city ever since Vincent Moreau took his father’s place.”

  Colt hesitated. “What if there was someone who could challenge him? Someone to take his place?”

  Susan searched his face in confusion and seemed about to reply when the phone rang. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. It might be Stan,” she said, reaching for the phone on the wall. “Hello? Honey, I -- slow down,” she said, frowning. “Charges? They can’t do that! You haven’t done anything! Where is Roland?” She paused and Colt could hear Stan’s voice on the other end of the line. “Alright. I’ll call Tim. Don’t you dare say a word to that snake until we get there,” she said, her hands trembling as she placed the phone back in its cradle.

  “What happened?” Colt asked, even though he had a bad feeling he knew.

  “Stan was arrested,” she said in a hollow tone, a blank expression on her face.

  “Arrested? For what?”

  “He was the last person to see Carver alive, and he was already investigating the hospital because of that boy’s mother,” she murmured, her voice monotone.

  “But they can’t prove shit.” Colt hesitated. “Can they?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Stan gives out amphetamines to ghouls having trouble controlling their instincts. That’ll let them keep him there long enough to untangle everything else.” She smoothed down a few stray hairs and looked frantically around the kitchen. “I have to find my keys. And call Tim. God, where did I put those keys?”

  “They’re right here,” Colt said, grabbing them off the counter. “Who’s Tim?”

  “He’s our lawyer,” she said, reaching for the keys.

  Colt held them out of her grasp. “I’ll drive you.”

  “You shouldn’t be there now, not with your connection to Jason. It’ll just make this all look worse.”

  “So I won’t go in, but you’re not in any shape to drive.”

  Susan nodded shakily. “Okay.”

  The entire drive was silent, once Susan had put in her call to the family lawyer, and she stared out the window the entire time, chewing her nails. Colt had never seen her so flustered and he wished he knew better how to comfort her. His mother would have. Renee was always good with people. Gerald had taught him how to work on cars easily enough, but he’d never been quite as good at absorbing the softer skills his mother had to teach him.

  The moment Colt pulled up to the curb, Susan was out the door before the car had even come to a full stop. “I’ll be right here. Just text me if you need anything,” he called after her. He hated sending her in alone, but she was right. Wilbur was already up his ass. The best way he could help Stan was to stay away.

  Susan nodded distractedly before running into the building, her hair flying everywhere. Colt parked in the back of the lot and tried not to look conspicuous. Thirty minutes passed without a word from Susan, but it was the young man running up the sidewalk that drew his attention. Colt shot out of the car as soon as he realized it was Ronnie and caught the other ghoul by the shoulders.

  “Let me go,” Ronnie growled. “My dad’s in there.”

  Colt felt Ronnie’s nails digging into his arms and noticed the ink leaking into his eyes. Fledglings weren’t supposed to be able to shift until they were twenty-five, but Colt had heard of cases where extreme situations could provoke an early transformation. Ronnie was going to shift into a monster right in front of the police station if he didn’t calm down.

  “You can’t go in there like that,” Colt said firmly, grasping Ronnie’s shoulders tighter. “If you try, all you’re going to do is cause more trouble for your parents.”

  Colt could see the hurt on Ronnie’s face, but his words had served their purpose. “Come on,” he said, ushering Ronnie into the passenger side of his truck. Tim had already gone into the building, so he knew Susan wouldn’t be alone, and she would want him to get Ronnie out of there.

  “This is fucked up,” Ronnie seethed.

  “Yeah, it is,” Colt agreed, starting up the truck. He pulled out of the lot and started driving with no particular destination in mind.

  “What happened?” Ronnie demanded. “And don’t give me the same bullshit my parents have been giving me all week.”

  “Fair enough,” said Colt. Maybe Stan and Susan would have preferred to shelter Ronnie from the truth, but he was an adult and Colt knew from personal experience that the truth was always better, no matter what the various well-intentioned adults in his life had thought. “The DA’s office has been investigating the hospital because a woman thinks her son’s body was taken.”

  “Was it?” Ronnie asked, horrified.

  “Looks that way,” Colt admitted. “The DA looked into it to humor her, and my guess is that he somehow made the connection between your dad’s operation and all the other bullshit that goes on in this city. Now that Wilbur’s in office, he’s doing things his own way. Now, knowing your dad, as careful as he is, my best guess is that Wilbur doesn’t actually have enough evidence to convict him, but he’s the only thread he has right now and that prick’s gonna tug as hard as he can in hopes that the whole thing unravels.”

  Ronnie fell silent and when Colt glanced over at him, he was staring in shock. “Too much truth?”

  “No,” Ronnie mumbled, looking back out the window. “Just not used to hearing it, I guess.”

  “I know this doesn’t mean much now, especially coming from me, but it’s gonna be okay.”

  “You really think that?”

  “I do,” Colt said without hesitating. He was going to make it okay, one way or another. Stan and Susan were more than friends. They’d become family, and they had shown him that even if he wasn’t human, he didn’t have to be a monster. Ever since he’d been drawn into their world, he had done nothing but try to hide and he was fucking tired of it. What good was hiding if you couldn’t even shelter the people who meant something?

  “Where are we going?” Ronnie asked, his voice as toneless as his mother’s had been. Colt was starting to think they both felt more than they let on, but simply shut down when it happened because they didn’t know any other way. He could relate to that.

  “Wherever you want. Just say the word and the city’s yours.”

  “I don’t care where, just as long as it’s not home.”

  “Not home it is,” Colt said, taking a sharp turn down a narrow road.

  “Shit,” Ro
nnie muttered, gripping the door.

  “Come on, live a little,” Colt teased, hoping he could shock Ronnie into being less upset if he couldn’t lighten his spirits organically.

  “I’d rather live a lot, thanks.”

  “Fair enough,” Colt laughed, slowing down. He pulled up in the back lot of a bar on the outskirts of town, close enough that they could get back to the station in a few minutes if Susan called.

  “This place looks sketchy,” Ronnie said, eyeing the worn brick face of the bar. “Does it even have a name?”

  “Probably,” Colt said, locking his truck as they headed in.

  “I just turned twenty, aren’t they gonna want an ID?”

  “It’s not that kind of bar,” said Colt.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be keeping me out of trouble?”

  “Walking into a police station in the middle of a ghoul hunt is trouble. Sneaking into a bar is a rite of passage.”

  They came to a stop in front of a tall man whose black combat boots didn’t match the rest of his country boy aesthetic. He eyed Ronnie and nodded to Colt. “Who’s the kid?”

  “This here’s my cousin from Idaho,” Colt said, putting a hand on Ronnie’s shoulder. “Don’t let the baby face fool you, he’s on his third wife.”

  The bouncer rolled his eyes and nodded toward the rusty door. Colt led Ronnie inside and when he found them a seat at the bar, Ronnie was the same ashen shade of the once-white walls. “I just committed a felony.”

  “What, that was your first?” Colt scoffed, waving to the bartender. “Two beers.”

  “You got it, handsome,” she drawled in a cultivated southern accent. Not that anyone would call her on it. It worked with the honky-tonk gutter vibe the place was going for. “Who’s the kid? You replace that pretty boy lawyer of yours already?”

  “Told you this was a bad idea,” Ronnie mumbled, shrinking further into his jacket.

  “My cousin,” said Colt. “Ronnie, this is Jess, finest bartender in all of Providence.”

  Jess snorted and slid two beers across the bar. “Anyone asks, you ordered ‘em both for yourself.”

  “Sure,” said Colt. No one was going to ask.

  “So you’re a regular here, huh?” Ronnie asked, looking around the bar as Jess went back to her other customers.

  “The guys on my old crew would come down here sometimes. Haven’t been back since...well, since Chuck.”

  “How’s his family doing?”

  “I check on his wife sometimes. She’s alright, all things considered. Chuck had life insurance, so at least she doesn’t have to worry about money.”

  “It must be weird, having to pretend like you don’t hate Evelyn.”

  “Oh, I don’t bother pretending,” Colt admitted. “But Chuck wasn’t a saint. If he hadn’t been trying to cheat on Betty, he’d still be here.”

  “Guess that’s one way of looking at it.”

  “It’s how I justify not ripping out her throat, I guess.” Colt finished his beer and started on the next one.

  “You know this shit doesn’t actually do anything for mature ghouls, right?”

  “Ever hear of psychological addiction?”

  Ronnie snorted a laugh, but he took a sip of his own beer. “Uncle Ro’s gonna flip when he finds out Wilbur ordered my dad’s arrest.”

  “Hope not. The last thing we need is an all-out ghouls versus human war. Then the Assembly really will wipe us all out like they did in Cleveland.”

  The look of pure terror on Ronnie’s face made it clear that the Browns had skipped over that bit of ghoul history with their son. “What? Why would they do that?”

  Fuck. “Uh...

  “Forget it,” Ronnie muttered. “It’s just another thing they kept from me. I shouldn’t even be surprised at this point.”

  “I’m sure they just wanted to protect you, Ronnie.”

  “That’s what they always want. I’m sick of it. I still have to deal with the bullshit, I just can’t prepare myself before it happens.”

  “Yeah, I get it. Trust me, I get it. But right or wrong, you can’t make people see you as an adult just because you are one. Sometimes you have to prove it, and this is a damn good chance. Your mom’s gonna need you until all this shit blows over, and it will.”

  “Seriously? You’re giving me the ‘man of the house’ talk now?” Ronnie asked in disbelief.

  Colt shrugged. “Someone’s got to, now that your dad’s in the tank.”

  Ronnie gave him a halfhearted shove. “Asshole.” He turned his head, but not before Colt caught a glimpse of a smirk.

  “You good enough to head back now?”

  “You’re not gonna make me go home?”

  “No one can make you do anything, Ronnie. If you wanna go in there starting shit and making things worse for your parents, that’s on you. I’m just asking, are you good?”

  Ronnie paused a moment before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

  “Good.” Colt paid the bill and led Ronnie back out to the lot. When they arrived at the station, Susan and Tim were waiting in the private lobby.

  “Ronnie,” Susan cried, rushing over to join her son. She wiped the tears off her cheek and hugged him tightly, giving Colt a bewildered look. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “This is exactly where I should be,” said Ronnie, holding her. “You should’ve told me what was going on.”

  Susan pulled away and wouldn’t meet her son’s eyes. “I was just hoping it would go away. We both were. We didn’t want you to worry, and you’ve already been so stressed out with school…”

  Colt could see the guilt in Ronnie’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not a kid anymore. This is my family and you have to let me be a part of it.”

  Tears filled Susan’s eyes and her smile quivered. “Oh, sweetheart.” She pulled him in for another tight hug and Colt wandered over toward Tim to give them a moment alone.

  “What’s the deal with Stan?” Colt asked, watching as Tim looked over an array of papers on the bench beside him.

  Tim looked up, frowning. “And who are you, exactly?”

  “Friend of the family.”

  Tim sighed. “He’s still in processing. One of our officers is delaying things as much as he can so Roland has time to get here before the DA can start interrogating him. I’m hoping we can take care of this before any charges are actually filed.”

  Somehow, Colt doubted that Roland’s presence would smooth things over. “Does Wilbur actually have anything on him?”

  “Nothing that will stick, but he had Martin Fisher’s body exhumed and the grave was empty, as his mother said it would be. Then there are the scripts.”

  “How the hell can they link the missing body to Stan?”

  “He’s the supervising physician on the morgue, which is enough of a red flag, combined with the other trumped up charges the DA is filing to hold him here. It’s nothing half the doctors in the state couldn’t get caught on if they had a reason to investigate.”

  The doors opened and Colt heard the sound of the Sheriff’s keys jangling before he caught sight of Roland stalking through the lobby.

  “Roland!” Susan cried, rushing to her brother. “Thank God you’re here. They can’t do this, can they?”

  “I’ll take care of it, Susie,” he said in an icy tone, ignoring Colt and Tim entirely as he walked down the hall.

  Susan gave Colt a pleading look and he followed the Sheriff, intent on doing damage control. Roland seemed cool and collected on the surface, but Colt could tell the man had a temper. Took one to know one.

  “Wilbur!” Roland barked, already on the warpath.

  Not off to a great start.

  The Sheriff threw open a door down the hall and by the time Colt followed him into the room, Wilbur had leapt up so fast that he knocked his chair over. “What the fuck?”

  “You think this is cute?” Roland snapped, stalking toward the new DA. For a split second, Colt feared he was going to have to get betwee
n them and wasn’t entirely sure he was willing to take a punch for Andrew. At least Roland was pissed off at someone else for a change.

  “Sheriff. Can’t say I’m surprised that your decorum ends where your personal interests begin, but that’s becoming a theme with officials in this city,” Andrew said, peering over at Colt. “And Mr. Jager. I was wondering when you’d show up.”

  “These charges are bullshit and you know it,” Roland snarled, holding up a piece of paper with a court seal stamped on the top. “But I guess that’s why you had to run between my legs to get a warrant.”

  “Judges don’t normally grant warrants for ‘bullshit,’ as you put it,” Andrew replied coolly, pouring a cup of water. He offered it to Roland. “You should sit down. You’ll raise your blood pressure.”

  Roland knocked the plastic cup out of Andrew’s hand and water splashed all over the linoleum tabletop. “You don’t wanna play this game, Andrew. Didn’t go so well for your predecessor.”

  “Is that a threat?” Andrew challenged.

  “It’s a warning.”

  Colt could feel the tension between the two men coming to a breaking point and cleared his throat. “Before we whip out the rulers, can we talk about the fact that an innocent man is sitting in the other room while one of his patients could be dying on the OR table, for all we know?”

  “Innocent?” Andrew laughed. “I’ve got a thoracic surgeon running a morgue where bodies mysteriously go missing and pills fly out like candy, a Sheriff who’s more interested in covering things up than solving the fucking DA’s murder, and a man who slings lumber for a living who’s somehow wrapped up in all of it. I might not be a hundred percent clear on what’s going on in this city yet, but I know for damn sure not a single one of you is innocent.”

  “See, that’s your biggest mistake yet,” Roland said, his voice taking on a dangerous tone. “You never make a power move unless you’re one-thousand percent sure you know what you’re doing. As many issues as I had with Carver, at least he was smart enough to know that.”

  “Smarter or not, he’s still dead,” said Andrew. “And I will find out why, even if I have to use your brother-in-law to do it. Something tells me he’s not the type who’ll do well in prison.”